Lost
by Sea Biscuit x
Summary: J.O.N.A.S, non-spy. Joe's drinking problem is driving him over the edge. Is it too late for Nick and Kevin to save him, or will he drag them down with him? MINOR JOICK.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**__  
The Jonas Brothers are not famous yet in this fic. (:_

"Kevin!" I hissed, hearing the sound of a car in the driveway, "He's home! Get up!"

My older brother groaned, but opened his eyes and rolled out of Joe's bed. "I hate this," he muttered, slipping his shoes on. "You know the drill, Nick."

I nodded, hopping off my bed and scampering into the kitchen as Kevin went to the front door. Quietly, so as not to wake up Mom and Dad, I quickly filled three glasses with cold water. I balanced them carefully and walked slowly up the stairs, spilling only a little bit in the process. I brought them back up to the bedroom Joe and I shared, placing them on my desk. Minutes later, Kevin came in, supporting a bedraggled Joe, who only could only stand upright with his arm clinging around Kevin's shoulders. And like almost every night, I could not help but to be disappointed in the person I had once been proud to call my brother.

It happened at least three or four times a week – Joe would always pretend he needed to go to work, though he knew as well as I that he had been fired from his job more than seven months ago. Instead, he would visit the local bar, have a "few" drinks, and have a friend bring him home at the wee hours of morning, usually around 2 AM, sometimes later. By this time, Mom, Dad, and Frankie had long gone to bed, leaving me and Kevin the responsibility of staying up with him until he recovered from his drunken state. In fact, we were the only ones who knew about Joe's habit. Mom and Dad thought he was still working at the late-night diner, and they thought it to be normal for him to get home late, always going to bed before he returned. So Kevin and I, being the luckiest devils alive, get no sleep several times a week because of Joe's stupidity.

"Drink," Kevin ordered, shoving Joe into the chair by my desk, pointing to the glasses of water.

"I don't wanna," Joe whined, "My head hurts."

"Of course it hurts," Kevin snapped, "You've been drinking all night."

"No I haven't!" Joe insisted, but the smell of beer and cigarettes that stained his breath and clothes was more than enough to tell us he was lying.

"Yes, you have," Kevin said firmly.

"Nuh-uh." He shook his head like a little kid refusing to do the dishes. "I just one teeny little beer, that's all, Kevy-wevy. That's all."

"Liar," Kevin snapped, hitting Joe on the head with his knuckle – not enough to hurt him, but enough to make him shut up.

Joe glowered at Kevin, but grabbed a glass. He swayed unsteadily in the chair and brought the water to his lips, but only succeeded in spilling the whole thing all over himself.

I bit my tongue to keep from screaming at him, and silently wiped up as much water as I could with one of Joe's old shirts that was lying on the ground.

"Snap out of it," Kevin demanded, giving Joe a good slap. Joe screwed his eyes shut and opened his mouth to scream, but Kevin acted quickly took this chance to pour water down his throat. Joe, opening his eyes, looked surprised, but swallowed and coughed a few times.

As Kevin tried to get Joe to drink the remaining glass, I went to the closet to find a clean pair of pajamas for Joe. When I returned, Joe had drank the last glass of water, and was currently in the bathroom, retching the foul contents of his stomach into the toilet, Kevin sitting patiently by his side and patting his back. "Better out than in," I heard him say.

It was all I could do to stop myself from running over and punching Joe in the face. I hated him. He was supposed to be there for me. He was my older brother, for Christ's sake. But instead, here I was, taking care of _him_. Although Kevin did a great job as a brother, he wasn't home all the time and I constantly found myself feeling lonely at home. I needed _someone_ to talk to, someone that would listen to me and offer my a sympathetic shoulder no matter what was wrong – if my grades were bad, if I was having trouble at school, if I just needed someone to comfort me. And Joe was supposed to be that someone. Things worked out great until Joe had gotten fired. He started hanging out with a group of bad kids, spending less and less time at home and more time with his stoner friends or at the bar. I hardly ever saw him, except at school. The rest of the day, he'd shut himself in our closet to do his homework, though he had a perfectly good desk to use. Then, right after dinner, he would head off to "work". Multiple times, Kevin and I had tried to stop him, and it worked sometimes, but lately, he just would not listen to anyone anymore. Kevin and I gave up trying quite a while ago.

I snapped out of my painful reverie when I heard Kevin asking me to bring Joe his pajamas. I complied, feeling like a robot. This was the routine every night – I would stay up while Kevin slept, I'd hear the sound of a car in the driveway, I'd wake Kevin up, I would get water while Kevin dragged Joe upstairs. Kevin would force Joe to drink the water, and then accompany him to the bathroom where Joe would proceed to throw up, I would bring Joe clean pajamas, Joe would go to sleep, and one of us would have to stay up the rest of the night to make sure Joe stayed quiet.

I helped Joe change his clothes, realizing how pitiful it was when an 18-year-old needed help performing such a simple task. Then, like always, Joe collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep. I stared, disgusted at him.

Kevin glanced over at me, his eyes dull and tired. "I think it's my turn to stay up," he yawned. "Go to sleep, Nick."

I shook my head. I knew that Kevin had had a pretty tough day, with mid-term finals for college added onto the pressure of deadline at the newspaper he wrote for. "I'll stay up. You need sleep more than I do."

"I'm not tired," he insisted, forcing his eyes wide, trying to prove his point.

"Yes, you are," I retorted, sitting down on Joe's bed, crossing my arms over my chest to show him I wasn't going to budge.

"Nick, get off the bed." He tried to sound stern, but he was so tired that I couldn't let him.

"You'll fail the rest of your finals."

"No, I won't," he sighed, exasperated. "Now get off the damn bed and go to sleep."

"I told you. I'm not moving."

"Well, neither am I," Kevin scowled.

We sat in complete silence for five minutes, Joe's loud snoring the only audible sound.

"You know," Kevin commented, "You can be so fucking stubborn sometimes."

"The same can be said about you," I replied calmly.

"Look, Nick, just do us both a favor and go to bed, alright?"

I shook my head no.

"Okay, then, I guess we're both staying up," Kevin grumbled, refusing to let me "outdo" him or something.

There was another long silence before I finally spoke.

"Kev?"

"Mhmm?"

"Why does Joe do this?"

Kevin sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Joey is just… stressed."

"Yeah," I said, not quite following the logic, "But why does he drink so much?"

Kevin opened his eyes, and I saw sadness in them before quickly looking away, engrossing myself with a stain on Joe's bedspread.

"Uh, never mind," I said, sensing that Kevin really didn't want to talk about it right now. "You don't have to tell me." The poor guy already had his job, college, and Joe to balance; he didn't need my annoying questions.

"He doesn't know what else to do." Kevin answered my question as if I had never said he didn't have to.

"Maybe we could talk to him?" I asked, chewing on my bottom lip.

"Believe me, I've tried."

"Maybe we should tell Mom and Dad?" I suggested, knowing the answer before Kevin even opened his mouth.

"We can't. It would kill them."

"But this is serious! We need a _responsible_ adult to know about it! I know you're 20, and technically an adult, but that's not the same!"

Kevin shot me an angry look, and I instantly regretted my words.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, looking down, my cheeks burning with shame. I shouldn't have accused Kevin of not being a responsible person. Hell, he was more responsible than Mom and Dad combined! He was the one that always took care of me, Joe, and Frankie; our parents have always been too busy to raise us properly. He worked hard at school, and spent all his free time working so he could make money to help support the family. He always came home at around six, before Mom and Dad, make us dinner, and leave an hour or so later to his second job as a busboy at some swanky hotel. I felt tears stinging the corners of my eyes, realizing exactly how much Kevin had sacrificed for us – his brothers.

"I'm sorry," I said again, looking away so Kevin wouldn't see me cry. "I didn't mean it."

"Whatever," Kevin muttered, obviously hurt.

"Kev, I'm really, really –"

"You don't have to apologize," he cut me off.

I hung my head, ashamed. I knew I had cut Kevin pretty deep, and I didn't know what to do. "Forget I said anything."

"Yeah, okay, Nick. Whatever. Just drop it."

I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and sniffed. I felt like a complete scumbag who didn't appreciate everything Kevin did for me. I thought back to the time when Kevin, Joe, and I were inseparable, always playing together, going everywhere with each other. Things changed after Kevin started high school, and they haven't been the same since. We started spending less time together, and more time apart. Kevin was always busy at school, and Joe didn't bother with me anymore. Then, Joe fell into his abhorrent cycle, and things just went downhill from there.

Soft snoring from the corner of the room told me that Kevin had fallen asleep. I watched him inhale slowly, and then exhale, so peaceful, so kind. Then I looked at Joe's sleeping figure – the person who had been my brother at some point was now a sloppy shit with nothing I could thank him for. We hardly ever spoke anymore, and I could barely recognize him. I looked closely, trying to find something, anything that would confirm that this boy was still my brother. Then, I searched my heart for just the smallest piece of love I had left for him. _Please_, _God,_ I prayed, but I found nothing.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and buried my head in them, letting tears slip down my cheeks. Never before had I felt so alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning occurred without any unusual events. I woke Kevin up at exactly 5:20 AM, and he prepared us something to eat before leaving for the hour-long commute to school as I changed into a T-shirt and jeans. Joe woke up shortly after, and the two of us shared a silent breakfast of lumpy oatmeal. Then, like always, Joe left the table after a few minutes, leaving his dishes for me to wash and was out the door without as much as a goodbye.

I sighed, washing our dishes and placing them carefully in the drying rack. I then headed back upstairs to wash up, taking care not to awaken Mom, Dad, or Frankie. In the bathroom, I quietly brushed my teeth and splashed some cold water onto my face, toweling it dry. Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I realized that my eyes were red and swollen from crying all night. I would have done something to get rid of the puffiness, but I would be late for school if I stayed a minute longer. I quickly grabbed my backpack and hurried downstairs, scribbling a hasty note for my parents on a pad of paper that said, "Oatmeal's on the stove. Have good days at work. –Nick", and tossing it onto the table before leaving the house.

The school day dragged as I struggled to keep my eyes open for the duration of my math teacher's lectures. Numbers danced across the pages and refused to sit still as I attempted to work through some problems, but ended up face down on my desk. Next thing I knew, I was being sent to the principal's office for being disrespectful or something. Honestly, this was high school, who the hell still sends kids to the principal's office?

I made my way to the office nevertheless, guessing that I was probably to receive a detention, or maybe they'd make me clean the bathrooms for a week or something. Our school's janitors had it easy – most of the work they were paid fore was done by errant students.

I stepped into the drab office and quickly sat down on a chair with a scratchy yellow cushion. I was mildly surprised to see Joe slouch out of the principal's little cubicle. He acted like he didn't see me, though his eyes met mine for a second before we both looked away. I offered him a wave, but he ignored me. It was like we weren't related whatsoever, we just happened to live in the same house. My eyes threatened to release bitter tears, but I held them back.

The secretary looked up from her little desk and glanced at me. "Nicholas?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Mr. Roberts will see you now."

"Okay. Thanks." I got up and headed to the cubicle, seating myself across from the wide-shouldered, balding man that was our school's principal.

"Good afternoon, Nicholas," he said pleasantly, in too-polite voice reserved for delinquents and trouble students. He glanced at my file and raised an eyebrow. "Another Jonas?" he questioned. "I was just talking to a fellow named Joe Jonas. Are you two brothers?"

I hesitated. "No."

"Oh. Well, you two look alike."

"We're not brothers," I said. The worst part was, what I was saying felt totally natural, and it felt a hundred percent true.

"Are you cousins?"

"No."

"You're in no way related?"

"No."

"Interesting. If I were to guess, I'd say you two were sib -"

"Drop it," I snapped, which was totally out of character for me. I was usually polite to adults, but talking about Joe was hurting me too much.

"Fine, fine," the principal raised his hands in defeat.

I glared.

"So, Nicholas, let's talk about why you are here today. Being disrespectful to your instructors, I hear – now what was going on?"

"I fell asleep in class," I said emotionlessly.

"Well, that is a problem," he mused. "Can you promise you won't do it again?"

I nodded.

"Let's seal that promise with some community service hours, shall we?"

I didn't respond.

"You're going to clean the bathrooms for a week, an hour a day after school. Fair?"

"No," I muttered under my breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, Mr. Roberts," I said quickly, giving him a fake smile. "I'm sorry about the trouble. It won't happen again."

"Excellent. Now, I'll just write this up, and you'll be meeting Mr. Green, our custodian, in the restroom after school today and for the rest of the week. Failure to comply will result in additional consequences."

"Okay."

"You may return to class now."

"Thank you." I got up and left.

The rest of the day went by uneventfully, and I met with the janitor in the bathroom after school.

"Here, kid," he said, shoving a mop into my hands, "Just mop for an hour. I'll be cleaning the classrooms." Like hell he was. He probably was going to find a quiet place to smoke or something.

I took the mop, trying to be agreeable, not really wanting to get in any more trouble. I began to clean the smelly floors, trying not to breathe in the horrific odor.

I mopped for quite a while, my eyes beginning to droop again. Damn, I should probably take something to keep me awake tomorrow. However, a familiar voice made my eyes spring open.

Joe and a bunch of his friends were lounging around right outside the bathroom. One of the guys gave Joe a cigarette, and he took it, lighting it and shoving it between his lips. My eyes widened as a couple of pills were exchanged between the group, Joe sticking his into his pocket. His eyes wandered around, and they landed on me. I clutched my mop, frozen, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights.

He looked like he was about to say something, but instead, blew a cloud of smoke into my face. The smoke burned my eyes and they began to water. I quickly turned around and coughed, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand. Furious, I threw the mop to the floor and stormed out of the bathroom, shoving past Joe and beginning to run. I ran and ran, off the school campus and down the sidewalk, not really knowing where I was going, until I heard a car honking loudly at me. I turned around, realizing that I had been crying, and embarrassed to see Kevin in his car, looking at me with concern.

"Get in the car, Nick," he said, and I complied, sliding into the passenger seat as my brother began to drive again.

He didn't ask me any questions, I dried my tears, and we arrived home within a few minutes. The two of us entered the house, and Kevin called for pizza.

When the pizza arrived, we crashed onto the couch. I stared at my greasy slice of cheese pizza as Kevin swallowed his pepperoni slice whole.

"So, what's bothering you?" he asked. I didn't want to tell him anything, but after the way I acted last night, I felt like I should say something.

"Uh… I just failed a math test," I said lamely.

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah. I got, like, a thirty-two percent."

"Oh." he chewed in silence before swallowing again. "Is that all? Any trouble at school or anything? Kids being cruel?"

"No, nothing like that," I said, "I just didn't do so great on my test, that's all."

"Okay." He didn't seem to believe me, but could tell that I didn't really want to talk. I felt awful, but I just didn't want Kevin to have to worry more than he already did.

I pretended to eat, but threw my pizza away while Kevin wasn't looking. I wasn't hungry, in fact, feeling a bit sick. I joined Kevin back at the couch. He had turned on the TV and was engrossed in a basketball game. I pretended to be interested, until the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Kevin said, springing up and sprinting to the kitchen to pick up the phone.

I picked up the remote and flipped around, not really looking for any specific channel or show, just wanting to do something to occupy my hands.

There was silence from the kitchen, an unnatural silence. I put down the remote and got up, approaching cautiously.

Kevin was sitting at the table, his head in his hands, tears running down his cheeks.

"What's wrong?" I asked, guessing that his girlfriend broke up with him or something. "You okay, Kev?"

"Joe… Joe…" he choked out, not being able to continue.

"What happened?" I demanded. Did he take the drugs? Did he overdose? Did he get into some kind of trouble with the law? Did he kill someone?

Kevin looked me, his eyes red and filled with pain.

"Spit it out, Kev!" I cried, panicking.

"Joe got into a car accident."


	3. Chapter 3

The hospital waiting room was the single most depressing place I had ever been in my whole life. Kevin and I sat side by side in the too-cheerful emergency room waiting room, with pictures of smiling children on the walls. Kevin was pretending to read a magazine, and I simply sat with my head in my hands.

A middle-aged woman sat across the room, crying inconsolably. A small family was in another corner, all leaning together in a huddle and praying for a relative. I never would have thought I would envy these people, but it was true. I wanted nothing more than for a tear to run down my cheek, a prayer for Joe to come out of my mouth. But the tears were long gone, and I couldn't think of a single thing to say to God. I felt like the worst brother in the world. I was probably the only kid who didn't shed a tear after hearing their brother had been in a car accident.

Kevin's eyes were red and puffy, and he wiped at them with a tissue every so often. I felt so empty, so emotionless. It was like I was just sitting here, waiting for the doctor to come out and tell me the prognosis of a complete stranger. I had realized that the tears I had spilled running away from Joe were for myself, and not because he was blazing full speed ahead down the road to destruction. I was selfish, and the worst person anyone could ask for as a brother.

The emergency room door squeaked open. Kevin's head shot up, and he stood up immediately.

"How is he, Dr. Evans?" he asked frantically.

"Joseph is in stable condition," the doctor replied, wiping his brown with the back of his hand. "He's broken a few bones. Nothing that serious, so far as we can tell. He's been transferred to a regular ward, room 173."

Kevin breathed a sigh of relief and slumped back in his chair.

"However," the doctor continued, and I heard Kevin inhale sharply, "He was in the passenger seat of a young man who was driving under the influence. We did some tests, to see if he, too, was intoxicated, and discovered that he has a large amount of foreign substances in his bloodstream. Everything is under control now, but he'll have to stay here for a few days so we can keep tabs on him."

Kevin nodded and sighed. "Thanks, doctor."

"No problem. I suggest you two boys go home and get some rest."

"Can we see him?" Kevin asked hopefully.

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow. The nurses are still –" he paused and saw Kevin's crestfallen expression. "Oh, never mind. You boys can go in right now. But make it quick, and please do not stress Joseph."

"Thank you so much," Kevin said, springing up and grabbing my arm, dragging me into the elevator. I didn't resist, but I didn't say anything either.

When the elevator finally reached the third floor, Kevin, still holding onto my arm raced down the hallway, running into a nurse.

"No running in the halls, please," she snapped.

"Sorry," Kevin said breathlessly, but slowed down to a fast walk until we finally reached the correct room. Kevin gingerly turned the doorknob and stepped in, pulling me in after him.

Joe lay in a cot, looking extremely pale and worn. His eyes were closed, but it wasn't as bad as I had expected. His face was littered with a few cuts and bruises, but he wasn't breathing through an oxygen mask or anything – only an IV and a couple other tubes for measuring blood pressure and heart rate were stuck in his arm.

"Joe?" Kevin whispered.

Joe's eyes creaked open. A slight smile cracked across his dry lips. "You came," he croaked.

"Yeah," Kevin said, letting out a breath of relief now that Joe was conscious. He strode over and gave Joe a hug. I stood in the corner listlessly, staring at the floor.

"I didn't know… I didn't think you'd come…"

"Well, we did," Kevin said, smoothing out Joe's hair affectionately.

I realized how much Kevin cared for Joe, despite all Joe did to us. But I couldn't feel the same way as Kevin did. I was heartless. Nothing could take away all the pain and hurt Joe had caused me, and I wasn't about to forgive and forget. He was never there when I needed him, so why should I be there for him now?

"Hi, Nick," Joe said, his voice hoarse.

I froze.

This had to be the first time he said my name in weeks, maybe even months.

"Can you come over here?" he asked, looking at me pleadingly. "I want to see both of you, to make sure you aren't an illusion. I still can't believe you guys came."

I started sweating, and my insides shook. I wanted to run over and fling my arms around him, squeeze him and tell him I loved him, but I couldn't. Not after all the suffering he had put me through.

"Nick?" Kevin raised an eyebrow at me. "What're you doing over there? Joe wants to see you."

I clenched my palms and squeezed my eyes shut, screaming at myself to move, to go over and just tell Joe that I forgave him for everything – the drinking, the drug abuse, the abandonment, the pain.

But instead, I turned around and fled, bursting out the door and charging through the hall, my head a mess of thoughts tangled together with confusion. I ran to the elevators and slammed my palm into the down button over and over again, until a pair of strong hands seized me by the shoulders and jerked me away.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Kevin hissed, whirling me around to face him, hands still tightly gripping my shoulders.

"Don't touch me," I spat, trying to pull away.

"Answer me!" Kevin yelled, shaking me as hard as he could. I cried out in pain as his fingers dug into my shoulders, their tips turning white with all the pressure they were applying.

"Get back in there right now," Kevin growled, furious. "You are going to talk to Joe, even if it kills you."

"No!" I screamed, twisting free. "I'm already dead anyway!"

"What are you talking about?" Kevin said, his raising his voice threateningly. "Get your ass back in there right now."

"No," I said quietly, my voice shaking. "I don't want to talk to him."

"Nick, I'm warning you."

"I don't want to!" I backed away, beginning to panic. "I won't!"

In one swift movement, Kevin stepped forward and slapped me across the face with all his strength.

I fell to the floor and my cheek burned with pain and humiliation.

Kevin was breathing hard, trying to control his anger.

"Nicholas, you don't know how much you mean to Joe," he said, keeping his voice even, though it was still shaking with fury.

"I don't mean anything to him!" I cried, struggling to my feet. "And he doesn't mean anything to me!"

"You will not speak like that about your own brother," he said menacingly.

"He's not my brother!"

Kevin froze, and all his anger seemed to melt away. He slumped over, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. "Is that how you really feel?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

"You have no idea, Nick."

"No, Kevin, you're the one who doesn't understand! I –"

Kevin straightened up and cut me off. "Joe told me that when he saw the other car coming towards him, everything went quiet. He didn't hear the beeping horns, he didn't hear the screams, he didn't hear the sound of the two cars smashing into one another – but what he did hear was you."

"What?" I stood there, confused.

"He heard you telling him that you loved him," Kevin murmured, wiping a tear from his eye, "and everything went dark. He just told me that he loves you so much, and that if he died, your voice as the last sound he heard on this earth would be enough to bring him to peace."

We were silent for a moment, and I found tears flowing down my cheeks – and this time, they were for Joe.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Then go tell him."

I nodded, and took a deep breath. Kevin put his arm around my shoulder and guided me back into the hospital room. I took a few moments to gain my composure before stepping in.

"Joe?"

I was answered with silence. I guess he was mad at me, so I tried a different approach.

"Joe, look, I'm sorry about what just happened, I don't know what came over me. I guess –" I paused.

Something was wrong.

My heart stopped as the little beeps on Joe's heart monitor combined into one, continuous, mournful cry.

_**Author's Note  
**In case you didn't catch that, the heart monitor made that 'beeeeeeeeeeeeeep' sound that you see in the movies when the patients die. Sorry if this AN ruined it for you, I just wasn't sure if I was clear enough. Harhar.  
Thanks for reading, and as always, please review!_


	4. Chapter 4

The tears wouldn't stop flowing as I once again found myself in the waiting room. Joe had just been re-admitted into the emergency room, and the nurses assured me that they would do everything possible to try and save him.

Just a few minutes ago, my heart was a hollow, dry cavity, and now, suddenly, it turned into an endless, violent river, spilling a torrent of tears down my cheeks.

Kevin wouldn't speak to me, or even look at me, instead, he had his head in his hands, staring off into space, looking like his soul had left his body behind.

I closed my eyes but the salt water steam would not relent. I hated myself, I'd never forgive myself. I couldn't believe I had been such a terrible person. I couldn't bring myself to admit it, but I finally realized that Joe was still my brother, and that I loved him… and now, I probably lost him forever.

I thought back, to a mere fifteen minutes ago…

- - - - -

_I stood frozen on the spot, staring at Joe's limp form as the heart monitor screamed. As the realization dawned upon me, I started screaming, ran over, and began pounding the HELP button with my fist over and over again._

_"Joe!" I cried, seizing his shoulders and shaking him. "JOE!"_

_The heart monitor suddenly quieted, and it's continuous shriek transformed into smaller, separate beeps._

_"Joe?"_

_His eyes opened slightly._

_"Nick." His voice was barely a whisper, I strained to hear him speak._

_"Joe, hang in there! Help is coming!"_

_"Nick…"_

_"Shh! Don't waste your energy!" I grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly, willing him with all my heart to stay strong._

_"Nickie," he murmured, closing his eyes again, "I love you, so, so much."_

_"Don't talk like that!" I commanded, "You're going to be fine!"_

_"I love you," he repeated, and struggled to sit up. Tears filled my eyes – he was so thin and weak – the alcohol and drugs had taken a toll on his body that I had failed to notice until now._

_"Nick, come here. Please."_

_I leaned closer. "Don't worry, Joe. Don't worry." What was taking the nurses so long to get here?_

_And that's when he kissed me._

_My eyes widened when his lips first touched mine, and I tried to jerk away, but I couldn't – it was so soft and so sweet, and I realized that it had been exactly what I had been looking for all this time._

_He gently pulled away and lay back down, his breaths shallow and ragged. _

_"I am so sorry, Nick."_

_I couldn't speak._

_"I love you."_

_I opened my mouth, but no sound came out._

_"Forgive me," he whispered._

_And then his eyes closed._

­- - - - -

I heard a door open, and I looked up. The doctor approached, a sympathetic look on his face.

"Nicholas, Kevin," he gave us each a polite nod.

I braced myself for the worst.

"I'm so sorry, boys," he said quietly, eyes cast downward, "We did all we could… but we lost him. My most sincere apologies and sympathies."

Kevin simply closed his eyes and took a deep, quivering breath.

_Dear God,_ I prayed, closing my eyes and finally summoning up the courage to face my Lord, _My brother Joe just joined you up there not too long ago, and I just want to as a favor from you. Please, please tell him that I am so sorry, and that I love him so much. Please let him know that I've forgiven him, and that I can only hope that he can forgive me too, for my selfishness. I swear, I would give anything just to see him one more time._

I could hear that my parents were in the room, Mom screaming hysterically.

The doctor kept apologizing, and I heard the words "Joe" and "depression" in the same sentences.

When I opened my eyes, I realized that I was at home, within the safety of my warm bed. Mom and Dad were crying in their room across the hall. They must have had brought us home without me even realizing it.

I buried my face into my pillow and screamed.

I screamed for Joe, and I screamed for myself, letting out all the pent up feelings inside. But when I quieted, there was still something heavy left in my stomach.

And I discovered, that it was only after Joe was gone did I realize how much I cared for him, and how much he had suffered.

And how truly awful of a brother I had been.

I realized that I had been so, so selfish. I spent my days wallowing in self-pity, and failed to think about what Joe was going through. I only know realized that he had shown all the signs of clinical depression, and I had ignored them all. How could I not have seen them sooner?

There was nothing I wanted more than to just speak to Joe one last time.

Joe died in pain, alone, lost, and confused.

Joe died due to my selfishness and negligence.

Joe died thinking I hated him.

I got out of bed and made my way downstairs and into the kitchen. The clock read 2 o'clock, but this time, Joe wasn't coming home.

I poured three glasses of water, out of habit. One glass slipped from my fingers and smashed on the floor, but I didn't bother to pick it up.

I slumped down into a chair at the kitchen table, trying to remember the last real conversation I had with Joe, but nothing came to mind.

A photo on the fridge, taken four years ago, caught my eye – Joe and I tangled in a messy hug, smiles plastered on our faces, with Kevin kind of off to the side with a sheepish grin.

I stared at Joe's face in the picture. He was so happy, so full of life. It was difficult to believe that the smiling boy in the picture was a Joe I once knew. I tried to think back to the times like in the photograph; when the three of us were brothers. Sure, Kevin had already started parting ways once he was off to high school, the photo was taken during his sophomore year, but Joe and I were still pretty much inseparable, and I found myself longing to go back four years, to the time we were close, to feel Joe's warm embrace, to actually be happy.

I continued to study the photo, though my vision was blurred by the tears. Joe had that stupid grin on his face, the one I've missed seeing for so long. He looked so much younger, but still had the handsome features my mother was so proud of. Everything about the picture made me hurt – the way Joe's eyes were crinkled slightly when he smiled, the way his arms wrapped around me. The fact that even though he was in the picture, I'd never see him again.

Three days later, at Joe's funeral, I stood at the podium to give Joe's eulogy. It was by far the most difficult thing I'd ever done in my life, and I'm sure my mother and father sensed it before it even happened – they said it would be alright for me to step down whenever I needed to. I was determined to give the whole thing; just let it out. So there I was, facing a large group of relatives and family friends. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I could feel someone watching me, someone other than the people in the room. I shook the strange feeling off and opened my eyes.

"Joseph Adam Jonas was not a brother to me," I began, trying to confident, "The word 'brother' is not enough to describe him alone. Not only was he related to me in a sibling sense, but also in a friendship. He was the most positive person I knew – he'd do everything with a smile on his face and a couple of jokes to spare. He just had such enthusiasm for life that it was so hard to deal with what had been happening for the past year or so."

A nervous whisper ran through the audience – none of them knew about Joe's problems.

"We started drifting apart. I'm not too sure what happened after that, but Joe just became a totally different person. We didn't speak, we didn't hang out, we didn't do anything together anymore. It killed me, but no more than it was killing him. I'll never forgive myself for not seeing the signs… I mean, I guess I saw them, but I just…" I drew in a long, shaky breath. I felt Dad's hand on my shoulder, asking if I was alright. I nodded.

"Joe, if you're listening right now, I just ask that you can someday forgive me." I paused to regain my composure.

"Joey," I choked out, "I love you."

I picked up my guitar warmed my fingers up with a few chords, and began to play, letting the melody dance into the rafters, just hoping that it wouldn't be confined in the building, and that it somehow would reach Joe. And then, I began to sing.

Hello beautiful,  
How's it going?  
I hear it's wonderful

Up there in Heaven,  
I've been missing you.  
It's true.

But tonight, I'm gonna fly.  
Yeah, tonight, I'm gonna fly.

'Cause I could comb across the world,  
And see everything,  
And never be satisfied,  
If I couldn't see those eyes.

Applause rang out after I finished. I stepped off the podium, kissed my guitar, and gently set it down by Joe's casket. I said a quick prayer to speed his way to a better place. And when I could take it no longer, I turned around and walked back to my parents, whose eyes were rimmed with red from crying.

Kevin gave his eulogy next. His words were beautiful, but I could barely comprehend them – my head was swimming with a mess of guilt, sadness, and hopelessness. When he stepped down, he gave me a hug, and whispered in my ear, "It'll be okay."

But it wasn't okay, and it would never be okay, because the reality was, that Joe was gone. I would never hear his voice, see his smile.

The remainder of the funeral was strange. People I didn't recognize came up to me and gave me their condolences, telling me what a great person Joe was. I numbly thanked them, and stood stiffly as aunts and grandmothers hugged me.

I read somewhere in a book that when a loved one dies, you go through a stage of denial. But I never felt denial – the truth just hit me, like the car that had hit Joe's. I almost wished that I could feel the denial, so that perhaps the pain would be a little less severe, but no such mercy was granted upon me.

When the final mourners trickled out of the church, the strangest silence occurred. I could hear nothing, but could see Frankie wailing and clinging onto Mom's skirt, Kevin and Dad hugging each other and trying to hold back their tears. It was like a peculiar sort of trance.

I silently turned around and stepped outside, into the cold air. A fresh blanket of snow covered the winter ground, and I began walking. I wasn't certain where I was going, but after what seemed like hours, I found myself in front of a massive, frozen pond. It was so beautiful and serene.

I carefully removed my shoes, socks, and dress coat, leaving them in a heap in the pearly snow and rolling the sleeves of my white button-down. I didn't know what was coming over me, but all I knew was that it felt so right.

My mind was blank, devoid of all thought and reasoning, so I can't explain why I stepped onto the ice, nor can I explain why I did nothing when I felt the ice beginning to crack under my weight. But I can tell you, that when the ice gave way and when I went down into the cold, clean water, my whole body relaxed, and as I drifted peacefully into the darkness, everything felt exactly like it should have been.


End file.
